


To Forget Only For a Night

by Bee_Charmer



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Comfort/Angst, F/F, Lexa Dies, Past Clarke Griffin/Lexa, Rough Sex, angsty sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-15
Updated: 2017-03-15
Packaged: 2018-10-05 18:06:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10313981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bee_Charmer/pseuds/Bee_Charmer
Summary: “I know I’m not her. I know I’m not who you want.” Niylah’s voice was steady, a constant in the dim, flickering light.“Niylah…” Clarke started.“No, it’s true. I know that, but…”Clarke waited, watched as Niylah’s gaze shifted, landed on her lips.





	

Clarke couldn’t sleep. She hadn’t been able to for weeks. 

There was too much to do. Too much at stake.

Too much she’d already lost.

And now there was no way to save anyone. 

Tears pricked her eyes yet again, hidden in the darkness of her tent. She would no longer cry in front of anyone else, but every night, the tears would come. 

She lit her lantern again, giving up on sleep for the moment. Eventually, she would be too exhausted to keep her eyes open. It might be hours until that happened. 

Until then, she would be left alone with her pain, with the weight of everything on her shoulders.

With the memories of Lexa. 

The first of her tears began to fall. 

“Clarke?” 

The voice was soft, barely a whisper. 

Wiping her tears, Clarke turned over her shoulder. Niylah stood at the entrance of her tent, eyes full of the kindness Clarke knew she didn’t deserve. 

“Hey, Niylah. You can come in.” Clarke said, moving to make room for Niylah to sit on her cot. 

“I saw your lantern and I thought…” Niylah let the tent flap close behind her. “I couldn’t sleep either.” 

Clarke nodded, holding her head in her hands. It had always been different with Niylah. She’d known her when Clarke held only her fate in her hands, when Clarke was fighting nothing but her own demons. And Niylah had let her, Niylah had protected her in the only way she could—she’d left Clarke alone. 

When Niylah first reappeared after Clarke abandoned her, after she was beaten for having known Clarke at all, Clarke worried Niylah would be just one more person who hated her. 

She wasn’t. 

The awkwardness faded quickly, leaving nothing but the same respect they’d shared for each other from the start. 

“I never thanked you for helping me after the fire.” Niylah said, her weight shifting the bed under Clarke. 

“How many things have I not thanked you for?” Sighing, Clarke added, “Or how many things have I never apologized for?”

Niylah’s mouth lifted toward the smallest grin. She said nothing. 

The silence stretched on. Clarke relaxed into it, relaxed into Niylah’s presence. 

It had always been different with her. 

Eventually, Niylah spoke. “Do you ever wish we could go back to before?”

Clarke knew what she meant. 

When Clarke was nothing but another trader with a secret venturing into Niylah’s store. 

Before Clarke’s duties pulled her back.

Before she fell in love. 

Before she lost everything. 

“I…” Clarke tried to answer. 

Sometimes she did. 

But then she thought of Lexa and the time they shared together. 

Her tears began again. 

Niylah turned to her, wiped them away. 

“I know I’m not her. I know I’m not who you want.” Niylah’s voice was steady, a constant in the dim, flickering light. 

“Niylah…” Clarke started.

“No, it’s true. I know that, but…” 

Clarke waited, watched as Niylah’s gaze shifted, landed on her lips. 

It was Clarke who made the move, Clarke who leaned forward carefully, seeking the kiss. It was slow, a question. 

Neither pulled away. 

Clarke leaned closer, pressed her body to Niylah’s, deepened the kiss. 

Niylah obliged, moaning against Clarke’s mouth. 

Clarke felt her stomach tighten, felt the sensation drop lower. 

She needed this. Needed the distraction. 

“Niylah…” Clarke rasped as hands slipped under her shirt. 

Niylah kissed her harder, pushing her back on the bed. Clarke let her, let Niylah’s mouth wander from lips to throat. Each kiss was hot, hurried, rough. 

It wasn’t enough. 

Clarke grabbed at Niylah’s shirt, silently demanding its removal. Niylah moved quickly, breaking her fevered kisses just long enough to abandon her top. Clarke might have admired the exposed skin, might have taken her time to caress the curve and muscle of the woman on top of her. 

If Niylah were the woman Clarke missed. 

A moan filled the air as Clarke dug her nails into Niylah’s back. 

Niylah kissed her deeper, rolling her hips against Clarke’s leg. Clarke held her closer, moving her thigh to press against Niylah’s core. 

Their movements weren’t gentle, were’t the careful, tender things Clarke shared with Lexa. Clarke wouldn’t have been able to handle it if they were. She needed rough, needed the pain. 

Clarke pushed Niylah up, flipped her over, relished in the surprised gasp Niylah released as she was moved. 

Niylah’s breaths grew heavier with each kiss Clarke placed down her chest. Her own body responded in kind, the need building between her legs as Niylah hands found purchase in Clarke’s hair. 

Clarke felt Niylah begging her to remove her shirt, begging her to be as bare. Clarke waited, waited until Niylah was writhing under her and gasping for breath before she leaned away. Her shirt was over her head a second later, covered chest rising and falling under Niylah’s gaze. Clarke let her look. 

When Clarke didn’t move to take off her bra, Niylah’s nails ran down her stomach. 

Clarke couldn’t help but whimper as red lines formed on her skin. 

She took it as a sign Niylah needed the same thing she did. 

So she let herself go. 

She tossed her bra aside, immediately winding her her hands through Niylah’s hair, lifting her mouth to meet hers. Their moans mixed together when she took Niylah’s lip between her teeth. 

More. She needed more. 

Niylah didn’t fight when Clarke broke their kiss, forcing Niylah’s mouth to her chest. Clarke threw her head back, trying to restrain her cries as Niylah’s mouth closed over her nipple, as she sucked, as teeth sank into flesh. 

Shoving Niylah back onto the bed, Clarke sought to give her the same pleasure, the same pain. Clarke held Niylah down, kept her hands on Niylah’s arching hips as she left the imprint of her mouth across the expanse of Niylah’s bare chest. Niylah’s nails dug into her back, leaving marks Clarke knew should have hundreds of scarred clones. 

Clarke bit harder, until the pain in her own back was enough. 

“Clarke…” Niylah panted, grinding her hips up against Clarke. “Please.” 

After one last bite, one last bruising mark left on Niylah’s breast, Clarke turned her attention to ridding Niylah of the rest of her clothes. As she moved, so did Niylah, working loose Clarke’s pants. 

Clarke stripped quickly, the ache between her legs growing. Vaguely, she was aware of the way Niylah eyed her hungrily, how Niylah’s gaze drifted to the wetness running down her thigh. Clarke didn’t care. 

As soon as her skin was bare, as soon as she was able, Clarke pushed Niylah down again, pressing her thigh between Niylah’s own. Niylah moaned, the deep sound rising in pitch as Clarke pressed their bodies together.

Clarke felt Niylah’s desire, felt the heat and the wetness against her skin. Her hips moved in response, rolling against Niylah, grinding into her in search of release. 

Her core was throbbing, begging to be touched. Tasted. 

Clarke held Niylah in place as she moved, ignoring Niylah’s moaned protests as Clarke’s thigh no longer pressed against her. The light was low, but Clarke could see the glistening wetness left on her skin from where she’d been pressed to Niylah.

Niylah needed this too. 

Once Clarke found her position, Niylah didn’t hesitate. Her tongue eagerly pressed against Clarke’s center, hands holding Clarke in place, holding Clarke’s hips above her mouth. It was exactly what Clarke wanted. Clarke wanted Niylah under her, wanted Niylah’s mouth at the mercy of the movement of Clarke’s hips. 

Clarke felt herself building with every press of Niylah’s tongue, every thrust of her own hips against Niylah’s waiting mouth. She was close, so painfully close. She rocked her hips more, until her moans grew louder and Niylah’s eyes shone with a dark need. 

Niylah dug into her thighs, holding Clarke in place while her mouth sent Clarke closer and closer to her release. In the end, it was the pain of Niylah’s nails that gave Clarke the final push. 

She cried out, hand weaving through Niylah’s hair to hold her mouth to her, to keep the sensation of her tongue from vanishing until Clarke could ride out her wave of pleasure. 

Niylah’s moans were almost as loud as her own.

It wasn’t enough. 

Clarke moved back down Niylah’s body, kissing over already bruised and broken skin, eliciting more pleasure with each added mark. When Clarke pressed her body to Niylah’s again, Niylah’s heavy breaths grew more urgent. Clarke knew how much Niylah needed her, could feel how wet she was, could hear the unspoken plea in every moan. 

Clarke rolled her hips again, pressing her mouth to Niylah’s, tasting herself on Niylah’s mouth. 

Niylah’s moan was lost in the kiss, lost in the heavy press of swollen lips and eager tongues.

When Clarke pulled back, Niylah begged, “Please. Inside me, please.” 

“Again.” Clarke ordered, sliding Niylah’s hand between their bodies, guiding her fingers. 

Niylah didn’t argue. Clarke’s hips rolled forward to take in Niylah’s fingers, to push them deeper. 

Clarke gasped as she moved, pushing Niylah’s fingers as deep as she could. 

“Please, Clarke.” 

“More.” Clarke practically growled against Niylah’s throat. 

As soon as she listened, as soon as Niylah pushed a third finger into Clarke, Clarke gave Niylah what she begged for. She slipped her hand between Niylah’s quivering thighs, wasting no time by teasing her more. Clarke pushed inside her, Niylah’s body offering no protest as Clarke filled her with three fingers of her own. 

Their moans blended as they moved together, as they built each other only to come crashing down again. Over and over. 

They did not stop until their flesh stung with the pain caused by their need, until they were too exhausted to do anything but collapse beside each other. 

This time, it was Niylah who left before dawn.

**Author's Note:**

> Don't worry, I also hate myself a little bit for writing this. 
> 
> Yell at me here or [find me on Tumblr](http://beecharmerwrites.tumblr.com). 
> 
> Also, it seems I am only capable of writing multi-chapter planned stories or porn ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


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